Sweet Claudia, Return to Me
by xxdarknessxfallsxx
Summary: Anne Rice's Louis still remains in the world after writing the book that started a stir in vampires, Interview with the Vampire. After seeing his story made into a film, he is convinced a certain young actress is the soul incarnation of his daughter.
1. Chapter 1

**Sweet Claudia, Return to Me.**

-+-Chapter One-+-

-+-

**Edit: **This chapter was revised. Things were just added to make for a better clinger.

.Louis.

Ever since I had told the boy my story and he turned my words into a novel, I had been in hiding. I knew the consequences before I began to tell my story that night, so I couldn't have been bitter when looking upon my situation in the time after, though I was weary from all of the turmoil and pointless existence to my vampire life. Was I waiting for something to occur, and if so, what? There were reasons I had told the boy my tale, reasons I did not wish to perceive right now. I had been in hiding nearly twenty years; I had found myself a safe place within the old streets of another American city on the west side of the country but well enough away from San Francisco. Most of the young vampires leading the hunt for my head did not even know how I looked, so it wasn't terribly difficult to keep myself safe during those years.

But the bounty for my death dwindled even more when Lestat de Lioncourt continued my story with his own, the one I believed every word of, and after he walked into the lime light of the night and wrote a few songs that exposed every secret Claudia and I begged from him during the years we were together, Lestat became the one with the bounty on his head. After the printing of his novel The Vampire Lestat, I could once again walk the streets of San Francisco since it's vampire community had a new celebrity to obsess over.

The lights, the cars, the smoke, the smell of the Pacific Ocean water was different than what I'd come to love in New Orleans but this coastal city still had a "personality" of its own I'd come to admire. My steps made little sound for a mortal to know I was coming, so a merry tune was produced from my throat as I roamed these once familiar streets. A victim had already been taken tonight, one who heard the whistle and saw my form coming towards them and yet they remained where they were, captivated perhaps, by me as I approached. The new law was to never leave evidence of a kill, so that young man who liked to loiter on the doorsteps of closed shops was given a grave deep in the earth before my night could continue. Steps steady, slow, hands folded comfortably behind my back, I walked along on the sidewalks of the city on this crisp November night.

The clubs and the cinema and the theaters were the only places still thriving with mortals at this time of night, and even now I knew it wasn't as crowded as the day. The brick walls of the buildings portrayed posters of recent films and current productions... I glanced at each one and admired the ideas that mortal men could produce and then bring to life. Themes of these ideas ranged from tragedies and horrors, to human emotions and lives, to the mysteries of the four corners of the world and space. I had always preferred the drama and beauty of a live performance versus the frame-by-frame pictures produced on a large screen, but one time I had gone inside the cinema to watch a sun rise in black-and-white and then once again in color.

Claudia always loved the plays as well. She and Lestat must have gone to several Shakespearian tragedies dozens of times to a point they could recite the plays line for line. And how lovely she looked in the dresses Lestat and I would dress her in, treating her like a figurine and a doll which she came to despise us for. Ah, those wonderful times before the inevitable destructive fire consumed all of our days together, our "happy little family." Seventy years flashed by so quickly, it seems. I sighed and looked up at the final poster on the wall outside of the cinema.

My steps stopped and all thoughts ceased as my green eyes slid over the movie poster before me. Every word, image, emotion provoked when I read that title, the title given to my story by the boy Daniel, was roused. "Interview with the Vampire," the poster read. I paused and let my pale hands fall at my sides. This, of all occurrences, was something I did not expect to see tonight. But what other night, my mind told me.

The tag line for the movie bordering the top said "Drink from me and live forever." The poster itself was red in color with the actor's face, who I assumed was for myself, on the right side, the words printed in the center on the left, and two figures by a street light on the bottom. At long last, my story had been made into a film.

"Tom Cruse,  
Interview with the Vampire,  
Brad Pitt,  
Stephen Rea,  
Antonio Banderas,  
and Christian Slater."

I was actually curious to see what had been done with the material I had given to the mortal world. I was curious to see who had been chosen to portray Lestat and well as myself, and Armand, but most of all Claudia. Surely a six year old of any regular mortal could not possess the spellbinding entity that my Claudia did. The film was sure to be a disaster if the actors chosen could not emulate the personalities I had described, but then again I had just mentioned how ingenious the mortal man could be... I could not explain why I felt I should go and waste a portion of my night by sitting in a dark room. I wanted to see the film, yes, but reasons behind this strong desire were unknown for the time being.

Within the hour I had seated myself in the very last showing of the film for the night. The seats were hard, the theater dim, full of fallen popcorn and spilled soda and small candies. The only other people in this very late showing was a couple at the very top of the room who were more interested in each others fond company than the film, and another lone man such as myself in the very front who might have simply fallen asleep judging by the slow sound of his breaths.

The curtain rose and the film lit up, picture by picture on the screen before me. I was captivated from slide one.

My reasons for my depression were changed, and the ending was a bit Hollywood since Lestat became a rock star, not a revived abomination who stole young men's cars. (Though I wouldn't doubt if Lestat had done that by now. I chuckled to myself at the thought.) But the general idea and point of my tale was kept alive when details were forgotten and worked throughout the film. I had to wait until the end to match names to faces from the credits, only then did I know Tom Cruise played a genuine Lestat, Brad Pitt and his baby cheeks I, Louis, the man-too-old-to-be-the-boy-Armand-who-separated-Claudia-and-I Antonio Banderas. Stephen Rea, who played a Santiago more annoying than the real when he existed, Christian Slater as the best interviewer the director could manage. And finally Kirsten Dunst, the brilliant young girl they had discovered to play Claudia. Granted, she was older than my Claudia was, Kirsten Dunst was not a day over eleven and my Claudia was not a day over six. But the essence of Claudia, her demands of a child and greed of an adult, everything my daughter was, was in that actress I'd seen on the screen. Unless my ears deceived me, she even sounded as my daughter had sounded!

I felt I needed to see her spectacular performance again. I wanted to rewind and watch the film over and over but that was not possible. I would have to wait until tomorrow to see this film again and watch as the soul incarnation of my daughter portray the vampire child she was created as in the past.

Besides the actress named Kirsten Dunst portraying Claudia, there was an element to the film that I simply could not ignore. It wasn't just because the film was my material, there was more behind my reason for walking into that theater I hadn't concluded at the time... What had I expected to retain when I had seen the poster on the wall? I pondered over this as I returned to my hide-away in the old streets of this city.

But I realized, after I had risen the next night and traveled to the theater again, I had secretly been desperate to see my own life, in a sense, before I had cast myself out of the _good graces_ of vampires everywhere. By attending that performance, I had been yearning to see if I could relive the good times of my life as a vampire before our "happy family" fell apart. And when I had sat through the film, it was like watching the _essence_ of my story light up before my eyes! I had choked from recalling my betrayal toward Claudia in loving another, was bitter when thinking of Lestat and how we had wronged him when he'd given us the life he had and merely wanted us as companions, was delighted when remembering the feel of my little girl in my arms and having others to share the burden of eternity with.

After feeding, I saw the film two more times. Each performance, I had a series of different emotions. In one, I swooned over the actress on the screen, sure she was some form of my Claudia. I clung to every line, enjoying every second of her more mature starlight face and honey curls. Then the next showing, I was appalled with the entire hopeless delusion and was convinced I had confused myself to a point I wasn't seeing the world correctly to draw such a ridiculous conclusion. I left the theater, almost stumbling through the dark and uncleanly allies and acting like my vampiric body had contracted an impossible sickness. What had I been thinking? The chances of the actress who played the character Claudia actually being some form of the real Claudia was preposterous! How could I overwhelm myself with such a hopeless thought?

But my mind seemed desperate for some justification. I stopped and held my hand against the brick of a building, as if to support myself. I recalled in Lestat's novel, the vampire Marius had told Lestat it was possible for a person's soul to come back to the people they loved in a past life. Pandora had been one of those souls. Lestat had looked upon myself and fallen in love with me and my resemblance to Nicholas, one of his past lovers, and apparently by the way I "clung hopelessly to life," he describes. But could this actress really be an incarnation or were my own hopes clouding my judgment to see the truth, she was not?

There was only one way to find out. I had to find and see this girl for myself.

* * *

**_The Disclaimer: _**

**_Lestat, Louis, Claudia, Armand, Marius, Pandora, Daniel, Akasha, Santiago and the novels mentioned within those characters all belong to the wonderful creator named_ Anne Rice_, not myself. The films Kirsten Dunst has starred in do not belong to me, but to the producers. And finally the characters of Kirsten Dunce, her family, and her co-stars featured here are all inspired by true people and are not made up from nothing within my head. There will be no made-ups in this selection, only characters inspired from the real thing, whom I do not have any ownership over._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** The first chapter was redone. Nothing too big, but it sounded too much like a one shot, so I added a little more and took out some of Louis' hopeless babbling. I've done my research for this story before I would continue. Oh, and, as far as this story is concerned, Lestat is a rock star but Akasha was never awakened as in Queen of the Damned, and he's not having a concert for a few years. Yes, I've decided to add Lestat in. -grimace- As much as I hate to admit, he's a significant asset to include. -crosses arms defeated-

-+-Chapter Two-+-

.Louis.

With every day since I had seen that poster for "Interview with the Vampire" pasted on that concrete theater wall, I wanted to find the actress who portrayed my Claudia, desperate to know if Kirsten Dunce was some sort of incarnation of my daughter. There was one problem with my hidden goal.

I knew nothing of the child Kirsten Dunst, save that she was an actress who'd starred in "Interview with the Vampire." I had no idea where she lived now, what films she was working on next, any way I could get into contact with her... I was forced to pay attention to mortal conversation and news, gossip, latest films releasing with her starring a role, the mortal media releasing some exclusive interview with the girl...

And even if I did somehow find out where this girl resided, I didn't know how to approach her without revealing myself or startling her if she did not know who I was. I would come to that problem when I reached that point, _if_ I reached that point.

Winter grew colder in San Fransisco and eventually the icy air stung mortals more than my hands did. Finally a movie was released into theaters with Kirsten called "Little Women" around Christmas time. Several Tv interviews followed, along with a few articles in newspapers. I watched and read them all, and I slowly began to learn things about this mortal girl.

Her full name was Kirsten Caroline Dunst, born under Klause and Inez Dunst on April 30th in 1982. She resided in Point Pleasure, with her parents and her younger brother, Christian. Rumors of divorce between the girl's parents came a year later in the winter of 1995, when a new film called "Jumanji" was released with Kirsten next to a talented man named Robin Williams. In that same year I'd picked up a magazine that named the girl one of the "50 Most Beautiful People," and I found myself unable to disagree. After 1995, the broken family moved to California, since Kirsten was there for sets half of the time anyway, around in the Los Angeles part of the state. From there, the years gave way to more movies with more mature roles as the young girl grew into a young woman.

One might question why I would acquire all of this information about a child, Kirsten. From outside eyes, my infatuation, if you wished to call it that, could be labeled as a small obsession. Whatever one might call it, I was engrossed and I had no one to console for these actions, therefore they showed no signs of release. And I had my own doubts during this time. I told myself over and over I was insane for thinking she was some form of Claudia, insane for becoming wrapped up in all news about her and wanting to soak in every detail, insane for willing myself into her life to prove myself wrong, or perhaps right.

I traveled down to Sherman Oaks, California since that was where the press had released Kirsten was attending school at and lived with her mother and younger brother. Her father lived more north within the state and Kirsten visited him every other weekend, but that detail hardly concerned me. Somewhere in this city, she resided.

It was a warm spring night of 1997. Kirsten was ready to turn the year of fifteen.

The press wouldn't reveal the actual address of the golden-haired girl I so desperately wanted to find, so each night prior to this warm spring night I had glanced into the window of every house in the Sherman Oaks area. Finally, I caught a sight of the golden hair of beauty I had both wanted and feared. I glanced into the larger window of the home and there she stood, at the table in her home's kitchen with a pen and paper in her hand. She was thinking of something and then writing it down on the paper. Poetry, perhaps? Or maybe homework from her education. Her delicate, milky hand gripped the pen and scribbled neatly; her sky blue eyes concentrated on the letters she created. When she finished her thought, her calm eyes followed the line and read it over. She seemed pleased and the smallest smile came to the young girl's face underneath the golden hair. Each strand on her head seemed a different shade of liquid sunlight, every shade beautiful and glistening under the light in the home. Her hair seemed to hair dance as she bent over the paper and then stood straight.

Her body had entered through the maturing process that transitions a human from child to adult; her cheeks were still rosy but not as doll like as they appeared under the make up for her earlier movies, and her form was aging, something Claudia wanted dearly.

I was kneeling behind the bushes that rested in front of the large window to the kitchen, letting the darkness shelter me from both neighbors and occupants of the home.

"Kirsten, would you please shut those blinds?" Her mother asked from another room. Kirsten complied, moved away from her writing at the kitchen table and came to the window. She glanced out into the night I rested within for a moment before flipping the blinds closed. I was afraid she'd seen me, since she had looked right in my direction, but I found it was just my paranoia and I eased myself up from my hiding place. I made a note of the address I'd found her at and stepped back into the street, leaving the way I'd come.

I had found her, at last. But the internal war within me now was if I should approach her or not. If I should speak to her and tell her my name. If I should reveal my possible relation to her. There was no way to prove or disprove that was was Claudia's incarnation, was there? I so wanted her to be, but why? So I could destroy her life a second time? No, if she indeed was Claudia, I could have her again, this time older, so that her immortal child body would not be her down fall.

I wanted to slap myself for thinking such a selfish thought. How could I think about taking this girl from her mortal family for my own greedy self? Even if Claudia did exist in her, she was a mortal now. She had mortal attributes that were attached to her. Who was I to rip her away from this life to damn her into exile with me?

In the darkness as I walked, I thought of Lestat and my memory of him changing the girl, who would become my entire life, into a vampire.

Thinking of such a thought freely, I traveled back to the hotel room where I was staying in the area. As I thought of Lestat and however more hopeless it was to find him compared to the girl I had just saw, who should be in my room when I return other than the yellow-haired Prince, as named by Marius. He was sitting on the bed with one of the magazines in his hand I had bought recently with Kirsten on the cover and a useful interview on the inside. He looked the same as he always had; though now he had a smirk and a certain laughter in his eye that was directed at me.

I knew he had found what my current obsession was. And he was laughing at me for it.

"It's been a long time, Louis. And yet you still think of her. You're as hopeless as ever." The Prince greeted. Such a _warm_ greeting, too. He stood and abandoned the magazine to come forward and embrace me.

"Lestat." I replied, my arms encircling around his shoulders. We parted a moment later. "How did you find me, or should I ask, why are you here? Other than to mock me." I told him.

His blue eyes sparkled in mistaking my question for interest. "I heard you, thinking of me while I was out for a midnight stroll. The vampires who are looking for me don't come around here."

"Where have you been hiding? I've searched for you." I admitted. If I could blush, I would have. Before I had seen the movie portraying Claudia, I had searched for Lestat after reading his book. After I'd discovered Claudia's possible incarnation, however, I abandoned Lestat easier than I felt moral. "I figured you'd be hiding yourself well enough not to be found by the vampires who wish to kill you."

"I've been around. I keep me and my band safe from them. The trick is to keep on the move, and move during the day."

"_Your band_." I laughed somewhat at this. I glanced over Lestat's attire and recalled his current profession. He was wearing tight leather pants and a black shirt that held the rock-star look that those mortals had designed for the musical performers. He looked absolutely ridiculous!

"Me, ridiculous? You hardly have room to talk, Louis." Lestat cut back, his white smile and fangs breaking through his lips. He picked up the magazine again and looked at Kirsten's face on the cover. "You are stalking a little girl who played the role of a fictional character, according to the mortals. Have you really deluded yourself with the concept that she is some sort of form of Claudia?"

My laugh was lost. I no longer held a pleasant look to my face. "It's just as possible as not." I replied. Although even myself was not convinced of either possibility. I really didn't know what I believed. Was she the incarnation of Claudia or wasn't she? The mortal soul of me that was lost when she died wanted Kirsten to be Claudia's incarnation, but a more logical side told me it was my heart getting in the way of my head.

"I'd rather prove myself wrong that ignore what could be." I finally told Lestat. He chuckled and smiled again.

"I would do the same, Louis. If I had a lonely of a life as you, anyway. Right now, I have adoring fans that would do anything for me, and I have several enemies who want me even more than the fans do." He explained. I raised my head a bit to get a different look at the vampire before me. I knew that what he described was what he always wanted, to be adored as an immortal, to live in the open.

I was indifferent about living as he did. And if I had a choice, I'd rather not. The different between Lestat and I was that, but the similarity was the publishing of our books and not caring for the consequences that came with it.

"I don't blame you, for never telling me the things that you told the world in your book." I told him solemnly. He nodded his head and looked grateful for my forgiveness.

"There are still things that you do not realize about yourself, though, Louis." He replied, glancing over my features. "We will keep in touch, my old friend. Don't seek me, I will seek you. I never know when there will be time when I can manage to meet you in safety." Lestat told me. He dropped the magazine and grabbed a black coat that was abandoned on the chair near the door.

"When will you know when I wish to speak with you?" I asked him, though not particularly interested in his answer.

"Who said anything about me arriving when _you_ wish to speak with _me_?" We exchanged a friendly chuckle and he left the room. His presence did not linger as I wanted it, probably because I glanced at the magazine again and momentarily forgot about all things except for her.

"Claudia." I prayed under my breath.


End file.
